The Jewel Thief
by Number Eleven
Summary: 16-year-old Rye isn't at all who he seems to be. But when he gets caught up with a mysterious young man who calls himself a Ranger, Rye begins to question his motives, and wonder if the only truth he's ever known is just another lie that he's made himself believe. This is set before Rangers even existed. It's my version of how the first Ranger Corps came to be.
1. Chapter 1

_**Blacksmith's Apprentice**_

Rye glanced up from his work as old Elias entered the shop, his keen eyes taking in every detail. The blacksmith was an altogether scruffy looking man, with shoulder length gray hair framing his face in hanging wisps and brown eyes that always looked tired. His face seemed to be permanently smeared with dark smudges of soot from years of forging metal- with his hands to match. But the man was kind and helpful, and often times Rye found himself feeling guilty at using the man's nature to his advantage.

Now was one of those times.

"Good morning lad," Elias said, dropping a small sack onto the wooden table next to the door. Sunlight pouring in from the window situated just above the table cast a warm light on the brown canvas bag. Rye gazed at it, then looked at the blacksmith questioningly.

"Lord Darius is presenting his son with a new sword, on account of young Phillip's becoming a knight. Asked if we could decorate the weapon with some gems."

"Really?" Rye said. Master of deception, it was child's play for him to keep the interest out of his voice.

The blacksmith nodded, "Thats whats in the sack there. All of them emeralds, and all different sizes. Wanted the entire hilt encrusted with 'em, and the biggest stone for the pommel."

"There's that many? I should think finding that many jewels would be hard." Rye said.

The old man shrugged, "Don't know how Lord Darius came across them, but he is a baron after all, I'm sure he has his connections."

Rye nodded, though inside he was seething with frustration. He'd wanted a number, not an explanation.

"Should I start on it right away?" he asked, setting aside the blade he'd been working on. It wasn't really important, just a dagger for his own use.

But Elias shook his head, "I'll start the blade in the evening." Rye heard the unspoken message, I'll do it myself to make sure it's perfect.

He shrugged and headed towards the door, "I'll go out to the village then." He didn't wait to hear the blacksmith's reply.

**ɤ ɤ ɤ**

Rye strode down the street, nodding greetings to the fellow village folks. They'd come to accept his presence now, although they weren't nearly as hospitable when he first arrived. He frowned as he thought back to how the villagers had cast wary glances at the young boy who'd come looking for an apprenticeship. No one had wanted to take him in, no one except the blacksmith, who wouldn't have been able to see trouble if it had been under his nose. Not taht he blamed the villagers.

It won't matter soon anyway, Rye thought, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, it's time I left anyway.

The sign hanging over the bakery door depicted a loaf of bread, still steaming. It had always made Rye laugh, seeing as the bakery sold anything but steaming bread. The bakery always put out the stale loaves first, and by the time they were sold the fresh ones would become stale themselves. The only way to get the loaf fresh would have been to steal it- which Rye had done more than once in the past. It had never failed to amuse him when he'd bring the bread back to the blacksmith and see the old man's astonishment.

Now, he ducked inside the store. The baker looked up from where he was standing behind the counter, his eyes narrowing as he saw who it was. He'd suspected that it was Rye who stole from him, but he'd never accused him,

Rye smiled at him winningly, "Where's your fine daughter today sir? I hope she's well."

"She's fine. Just went out to fetch some water from the well is all," the baker replied suspiciously, "Can I get you something?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, you can. My master sent me to fetch some sugar. He likes to put it in his tea. Do you have any?"

"Yes, of course I do," the baker looked insulted, and Rye's smile turned into an apologetic one, as if he hadn't meant to insult him.

When the baker rushed into a backroom, Rye slipped behind the counter to face shelves that stood out from the wall behind it. He reached over to a shelf that held raspberry pastries and plucked two off, shoving them into his jacket. Then he slipped back to his respective side of the counter just as the baker was returning.

"Here you are son, hope Elias enjoys it."

Rye payed him for the sugar and flashed his winning smile again before slipping out the door. Then he pulled out a pastry and ate it on his way home.

The blacksmith was sleeping when Rye returned, and he took this opportunity to count the gems. There were seventeen in all. Rye smiled, that many jewels could keep an entire family fed for a more than a year.

Just think of what it could do for one person, Rye thought, then shouldered the thought aside. He wasn't going to let it distract him, not now. He'd waited an entire year for a chance like this, and he wasn't going to let miss it.

The blacksmith's living compartments were located on the second floor of the shop. Rye climbed the stairs silently and turned into the first room on his left. The room was almost completely bare save two beds and table with a wash basin resting on it. The bed on the far side, next to the window was occupied by a sleeping figure and for a moment, Rye was struck with guilt. But only for a moment.

The other bed was neatly made and it was the one that Rye hurried too. He bent down to peer under the bed and pulled out a medium sized sack. In it were all the possessions he valued, though, he admitted, most of them had never been his in the first place. He placed the second pastry inside, no need to travel around with it in his pocket for the time being. Then he replaced the bag under the bed and lay down to take a nap. Might as well build up his energy, he had a long night ahead of him.

* * *

**Please rate this and comment! I would really appreciate it. And sorry for it being a bit boring (or alot, depending on what you thought). It'll get better soon, I promise!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Night Endeavors **_

The night was dark, having no moon to light up the world below. Wind whistled softly through the trees and in the distance thunder rumbled.

Tonight would be the night. It was dark and cold enough that people would go to bed early, and that was just what Rye needed.

Rye gently closed the backdoor to the blacksmith's. He had his bag with him, as well as the dagger he'd finished making that afternoon, and 10 of the emeralds that he took from Elias. He had about six hours to work before the villagers woke up.

Rye crept between the grass through the village. All of the houses had windows facing the main road, so it wouldn't do to stroll down the street in the middle of the night. He'd gotten what he needed from the blacksmith- feeling a twinge of guilt at going behind the old man's back, but if he were to bring in a good haul he'd have to make his way around the village homes. And he intended to bring in a good haul.

Most of the homes in the village were made of wood, although a few of the richer people had brick houses. All of them had one story except for the inn and the Blacksmith's shop, which had two. But Rye didn't need anything from the inn, there was nothing there of value. Instead, he made his way to the one of the brick homes.

He'd gone down this road a few days before, casually inspecting the houses. This one in particular, he knew, had a house cat. The cat was small, with fluffy orange fur, but despite it's cute appearance, it was vicious towards strangers. Especially, no doubt, to ones that came creeping around in the middle of the night.

Rye paused, peering through the window he was about to climb in through. It was one good thing that he'd found about this particular village- bad things rarely happened, so people found it unnecessary to lock their windows. The cat was nowhere in sight, so he slipped his knife's edge under the window and pushed the window up silently. Within seconds he was standing on the floor of the living room.

He crept forward until he found the hall. Another good thing about the village was that each house had more or less the same layout. He moved down to the second door on the left and turned the knob, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind him. The room held a simple bed, a mirror in the corner next to the window, and a dresser. The bed was occupied. Rye waited for a moment, checking to make sure the couple asleep were breathing evenly, then he ghosted up to the dresser. There he found what he was looking for, a silver ornate box. He brought out a small bottle of oil from inside his jerkin. After unscrewing the lid he dripped some of the oil onto the hinges on the back of the box and then hid the bottle again. Then he pulled the lid of the box open and smiled in the dark. There, shining faintly in the pale moonlight from the window, was a heavy pearl necklace- no doubt worn only on the rarest of occasions. Beside it was a golden watch, a silver bracelet, and a pair of pearl earrings to match the necklace. Rye scooped them all up, placed them into a small sack, pulled the strings of the sack tight, and then put that into his medium sack. Then he shut the jewelry box, opened the bedroom window and slipped out.

**ɤ ɤ ɤ**

By the time Rye finally reached the trees on the edge of the village, the tip of the sun was barely visible above the horizon. He cursed quietly; he had hoped he'd be farther away by now, people were going to start waking up soon. But he had to admit that he'd had a productive night- he'd managed to slip into seven houses all together, all of them from the richer side of the village, and the bag he carried with him was heavy on the shoulder. He smiled at the thought of all those necklaces and bracelets.

In the forest the dense foliage of the trees prevented much light from reaching the forest floor beneath, and as a result, the woods were pitched in almost complete darkness. But Rye liked to work best in the dark and he made use of the cover effectively, slipping from shadow to shadow like a ghost.

After about two miles or so he stopped next to a small creek. He'd been running nonstop, and by now his throat felt like sandpaper. He paused for a moment, checking to see if he could hear anyone. It was more of a habit than a necessary precaution. He'd grown used to looking over his shoulder, listening for following footsteps.

After hearing only silence, he concluded that the area was safe. Still, he felt slightly uneasy, and swung his sack up into the crook of a tree, hiding it from sight.

Crouching down next to the creek, he cupped his hands and dipped them into the water. Just as he brought his hands back up to this mouth he felt his skin prickle. He stood up, spinning around, the water sloshing out of his hands. In a quick motion his right hand flew to his left side and grabbed the dagger that was positioned there.

He narrowed his eyes, "Who's there?"

It was completely silent.

"I know you're here. And I'm a pretty good shot, so if you don't show yourself, I'll just throw this knife I've got."

This time, a quiet voice replied, "I don't think that's such a good idea."

It was only then that Rye spotted the metal tip of an arrow.

* * *

**I'm SO sorry for the long wait! I want to say that I've been really busy, but really, I'm just usually lazy. It's like I want to write and I know what to put down, I'm just to lazy to actually sit down and type it out. Anyone ever get that? Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Like the last chapter, it's a tad boring, but it'll get better! (I hope)**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Dangerous Encounter**_

The figure that stepped out of the trees was clad in a dappled green cloak, with a hood that kept the man's face in shadow. His left arm was straight out, holding a powerful looking bow, and his right arm was pulled back, keeping a black shafted arrow against the string in a full draw. Rye dropped his hand to his side, although he kept a firm grip on the knife.

"Drop it," the stranger said. His voice was deadly calm and quiet. His eyes were a strange blue green color, and seemed to shift like water if you stared too long.

Rye shook his head and kept the knife.

The man's lips twitched slightly in a smile and he raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure you want to refuse?"

Rye lifted his chin, "If you're going to shoot me, then I'm going to go down with a knife in my hand."

Suddenly, the man lowered his bow, "What's your name lad?"

"Rye," he answered. Then he silently cursed himself. He hadn't meant to give out his real name, he hadn't even told the villagers his real name.

"What are you doing in the middle of the woods Rye?" the man asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Official business, that's what I'm doing. And you?"

Rye narrowed his eyes, "Running."

The man wasn't amused, "From what? And why?"

"Why do you want to know?" Rye asked, this man was beginning to annoy him.

The stranger didn't answer. Instead, he replaced his arrow back into his sheath- which Rye hadn't noticed until now, and stuck out his hand.

"I'm Liall, a King's Ranger."

Rye shook his hand, "A King's what?"

It was Liall's turn to look annoyed, "Ranger."

Rye raised his eyebrows. He'd never heard of such a thing, and he made sure he was well informed.

"How come I've never heard of Rangers before?"

"Because," Liall replied, his smile was gone, "It's a new organization."

"Who runs it?"

Liall's voice was deadly quiet now, "I do."

Rye decided to back off. He hadn't meant to offend this man, although obviously he had. He'd simply wanted to gather any new information.

"Well," Rye said, clearing his throat, "I should really get going."

By now, the sun had well risen over the horizon and soft morning light was dappling the forest ground.

"And where are you going so early in the morning?" the suspicion was back in the Liall's voice.

Rye decided then and there that he'd had enough of this man. He was older than Rye's own 16 years, but young enough to be Rye's older brother. And like an older brother, he had obviously underestimated the younger boy in front of him, thinking he could just ask whatever he wanted. Rye hated being underestimated; in one smooth movement he pulled back his arm and threw the knife.

The blade thudded into a thick oak a few meters from where Rye was standing. Confusion swept over his face as he realized that not only had he missed, but he now found his arms pulled behind him and and a knife pressed against his throat.

"Never underestimate your opponent," Liall said behind him. Rye would have laughed at how ironic that was if he hadn't been restrained.

After pushing him down on his knees, Liall sheathed his knife and quickly bound Rye's hands, looping the rope around one wrist, then the other, and then both together. After his hands were secure, the Ranger did the same to his ankles.

"Now," he said, standing up, "Maybe we'll get some real information out of you."

The hood of the cloak he was wearing had fallen down, and Rye could see that the man was in his early twenties, like he'd assumed. He had light blonde hair, and despite the grim expression he wore at the moment, he had a friendly looking face. The bow he'd had earlier was slung over his back.

"I'm not going to tell you anything," Rye spat at him.

"Well I can't let a young boy just run around the woods without explaining himself."

Rye's jaw tightened, as did his resolve to not answer any questions. He was barely holding in his anger. Who was this man that he thinks he can just appear out of nowhere, tie him up, and question him?

Liall circled around him once, "Are you mute?"

No answer.

Suddenly the Ranger adopted a wondering expression, "You know, I could use a servant. And personally I prefer mute servants. I don't suppose you're looking for a job?"

"No!" Rye burst out, "I'm not going to be your servant!"

"I could always take you to jail, if you refuse." Liall continued on as if Rye hadn't spoken, "I'm sure they'll have room for a thief."

Rye's eyes widened, "What makes you think I'm a thief."

Liall smirked, "A hunch."

Rye didn't even bother to contradict him. This man seemed very likely to see through a lie, and besides, Rye had hesitated for too long.

Finally, Liall sighed, "I'm getting tired of this. I'm just going to leave you here. I heard there's a wild boar in the area, and you seem like a guy who's willing to take his chances."

The Ranger pulled his hood and turned around, stepping back into the trees. Almost instantly, he disappeared.

Rye squinted, the man had been there just a second ago and now he was gone.

_A master of camouflage_, he thought. He couldn't help admiring the Ranger's skill.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

"Wait!" he called, "I can help you!"

"How is that?" the voice came from behind him. Rye twisted around, amazed at Liall's ability to move silently.

"You want to capture thieves right?" of course, he didn't know that, but the Ranger seemed like a very righteous person, and wasn't capturing a thief a righteous thing?

Silence followed his answer. Rye took that to mean yes.

"Well, I'm a thief, I know where the thieves gather."

Liall snorted, "Thieves don't all gather in one place."

Rye nodded, although it was awkward in his position, "Yes, thats true, but the most important thieves do. How else would they be so organized?"

This time Liall stepped out of the trees so Rye could see him, "And who would _"they"_ be?"

Rye feigned surprise, "The Jewel Thieves of course."

* * *

**I feel like the title of this chapter is kinda lame, anyone else? I just couldn't come up with anything better. Anyone, hope you like it and please let me know what you think! I love the name Liall, by the way. Isn't it awesome?**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Wise Decisions**_

Liall's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he circled around to face Rye, "Really, you would take me, to the hideout of the most notorious thieving gang in the kingdom?"

"Well, I wouldn't say they're the most notorious. But yes, I will." Rye said, lifting his chin with pride.

"May I ask how you know their whereabouts in the first place?" the Ranger's voice was laced with suspicion.

Rye shrugged, "My older brother joined them, back when my family was still around. I was allowed to come by a few times- they thought they could recruit me, but after it became apparent that I wasn't interested I couldn't come anymore. Still, my brother hopes to gain me, so from time to time he invites me to the initiation meetings. I was at one just two weeks ago, and lucky for you, they only change location every month."

"You never wanted to join his gang of thieves?"Liall scoffed.

"Nah, I find that it's better business when I'm alone."

"And how do I know that you aren't lying to me?"

This time Rye grinned, "Thief's honor."

The young Ranger wasn't amused.

Rye shrugged again, the grin disappearing, "I don't know, you can't I guess. But I don't want to get torn apart by this boar, and I have a feeling that capturing such a "notorious gang", as you put it, would greatly benefit you. So, what do you say, deal?"

Liall ignored the proposal, which infuriated Rye, and assumed a thoughtful expression "You do understand that if you try to escape I'll just shoot you down, right? I wouldn't feel bad for killing a criminal anyway."

Rye gulped and tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice, "Sure I understand."

"Great!" the Ranger gave a slight smile and bent down to untie the boy. As soon as he stood up Liall nodded towards the woods, "Best be on our way, I'll be right behind you."

"Shouldn't we take a break before we set off? It's a long journey," Rye warned. In fact, he was exhausted. The nap he'd taken the previous day had been short, and he hadn't slept at all at night.

Liall appeared unconcerned, "I'm fine, and you've just been sitting on the ground for the last five minutes. Now come on."

Rye groaned inwardly and stepped into the tree line once again. Liall was right behind him, as promised.

"Wait," Rye said again. He'd almost forgotten the sack he'd hidden in the trees. But he couldn't take it down now, not with the Ranger right there watching him.

"What?" Liall was getting impatient now.

"Nature's calling," Rye answered, he smiled apologetically to make it appear more genuine, "I'll just go over here, if you don't mind."

Liall huffed and turned away as Rye headed over to the tree that contained his bag. He rustled some of the bushes behind the tree, all the while reaching for the sack.

"Almost done there?"

Rye cursed quietly. He wouldn't be able to get the bag. In a split second he decided that the bag would be safe for now, he'd have to find a way to lose the Ranger and come back and get it later. Until that moment, the tree would have to do as a hiding spot.

"Yeah, I'm done."

"Now can we please go? I want to cover some distance before the sun sets. Which way?" Liall asked, exasperated.

"South." Rye answered. He sighed, wondering if he should have tried his luck with the boar.

ɤ ɤ ɤ

It soon proved that the young Ranger was relentless in his quest. Breaks were at a minimum, and breakfast was completely forgotten- Rye made a mental note to force the man to stop for lunch. He also moved swiftly and silently, and even though Rye tried in his exhausted state, he sounded like a mob of angry horses compared to the Ranger. The only good that came out of it was watching Liall flinch at every branch that cracked under Rye's foot, and so the boy made sure that he stepped on every fallen branch that was in his path.

Finally, Liall's patience must have snapped and he turned around, "Can't you walk quieter? I want to get to this place without having everyone know where I am at any given moment."

Rye looked at the Ranger innocently. Despite the fact that Rye was supposed to lead, Liall had gotten annoyed at the thief's slow pace and had replaced him in the front, with Rye telling him directions from the back. Currently, they were headed towards a village just on the outskirts of Coledale Fief, though the Ranger didn't know that.

"I'm sorry, I'm just completely enervated because I've been up since the crack of dawn," Rye answered accusingly.

Liall raised an eyebrow, "Maybe if you hadn't been stealing, you wouldn't have been up so early. Speaking of which, what was in the bag?"

Rye's eyes widened in surprise, he hadn't know that Liall had seen it. He let his voice sound confused, "What bag are you referring too?"

"Don't play stupid, the bag that you were fiddling with while 'doing your business'."

"Oh," Rye said, letting the false confusion clear from his face. He had thought he'd been subtle, but apparently not. He'd have to watch out in the future, this Ranger had very keen senses. But with that another thought struck him and he voiced it aloud, in hopes of distracting the cloaked figure from his earlier question.

"Why were you watching?"

Liall snorted, "I wasn't watching. I could hear you. And after you were done, I could see the edge of a brown bag in the tree."

"Oh," Rye said, "And it was just some personal belongings." He added, answering the Ranger's earlier question.

"Really," Liall said, unconvinced, "Then why didn't you bring it along?"

"Because," Rye snapped, "I didn't want you to see all of my stuff. It's not your business what I have and what I don't have." Then he turned his gaze from the Ranger to the surrounding woods, ending the conversation.

The next few hours were spent in silence, except for the occasional direction from Rye. After a while, the woods started to thin out as the approached the edge. In the distance, Rye could now see glimpses of the village between tree trunks. Liall stopped.

"The thieves are in a village?" He asked incredulously.

"No," Rye answered mildly, "But lunch is."

Liall swung around to look at him, "Lunch? I've been following your directions just to get lunch?" His voice was laced with anger.

Rye was taken aback by the Ranger's reaction, "Well you skipped breakfast and I'm starving!" he replied hotly.  
"Then you should have said something," Liall's answered, "You could have at least told me we were stopping in a village."

Rye smiled, "So we are going to stop in the village?"

Liall rubbed his eyes with one hand and sighed, "Fine, we'll stop in the village. But it'll be quick. I want to get back on the road." The Ranger turned to the village, about to start again when Rye's voice made him turn back around.

"By the way," Rye said as the thought crossed his mind, "I hope you have money, because I don't."

The cloaked figure just sighed again and headed out to the village, wondering- not for the first time that day, if his decision to let the boy tag along had been a wise one.

* * *

**_Thanks alot for the reviews guys! I figured it was rude of me not to answer them (sorry for that, I just now realized that I probably should). I'll start replying to you guys down here. BTW, hope you liked this chapter. Is it getting more interesting? Anyway, on to the answers!_**

**With-the-Wolves:** _Thank you! And the pronounciation is LYE-UHLL (I think that's right...) And thank you for pointing out the emeralds thing. Yes he does steal them and I'm pretty sure I went back and fixed it after you pointed it out. And sorry for the confusing sentences. I really should go back and read over my work after I finish a chapter but I'm pretty bad at forcing myself to do so. As for if Rye is lying or not, I'll leave that question unanswered- that way it makes him more dangerous since you don't really know his motives. But I'm that way too, I can often predict what's going to happen because I'm so suspicious. And no, I've never read The Enemy._

**Alex The Rogue:**_ Thank you! I also love the name Rye. It reminds me of the Hunger Games- which I absolutely adore, because it's so close to Rue's name, and it's a bread name like Peeta- I'm also a big Peeta fan, always have been. Plus, it's the name of Peeta's child, I'm pretty sure. Sorry, I just went all fangirl on you. I'll stop now. Now that you mention it, maybe I should get a beta for the story, It'd spare me the time of having to reread my stuff and the other person can catch mistakes that I wouldn't have even noticed. Hm..._

**RoyMustang18:**_ I'm glad you like it. And I suppsed Rye is a bit like Will. _

**J.D: **_Thanks! I try to make my stories sound like they were written by someone who knows what they're doing (which I hope I do...). I've actually never seen another preranger story, which was why I was so excited to write mine. But I want to find another one now just so I can see their interpretation. And Liall is a bit like Halt, but I've always seen him more like a Gilan. Either way, I'm still working out their personalities so that Liall and Rye don't end up being a knock-off version of Halt and Will._


	5. Chapter 5

**The One With The Best Lies**

The village was a small one, even smaller than the one Rye had escaped from. From what the two travelers could see there was only one shop and a single inn, which also doubled as a tavern, surrounded by a few small homes. It was at this inn that they stopped to have lunch. Although the town itself wasn't very impressive, with it's weary-faced population and the dusty coating on every structure, the food was great, and the people were extremely hospitable.

It was only after he finished two bowls of soup and three slices of bread that Rye finally wiped his mouth with a napkin and relaxed against his chair. Liall had finished about ten minutes earlier and had been studying the boy. He wasn't very impressive, he'd decided. Just an inch or so below average height, Rye looked younger than he actually was- which was why Liall had asked his age in an earlier conversation. He had straight dark brown hair that fell just below his forehead, and that combined with his dark gray eyes and suspicious personality gave the boy an almost baleful appearance.

At that moment, Rye looked up and caught the Ranger examining him. "What?" he asked, defensively.

Liall held up his hands, "Nothing. Why are you so mad? Do you have something to hide?"

Rye looked confused for a moment, "No," he said slowly.

Liall smiled slightly, "Good. Now are you done?"

"Let me ask you something," Rye said, ignoring the question. "What were you really doing next to the creek, when you found me? I mean, if you were on real official business, you wouldn't have just abandoned it."

The Ranger frowned, annoyed that his question had been left unanswered, but replied nonetheless, "Oh just going to visit a relative."

"Yeah? Where does this relative of yours live?" Now that he was full, Rye gained a bit of his old arrogance back.

Liall's eyebrows rose at the question. This boy seemed too nosy for his own good, but, Liall thought sheepishly, so was he. "Not far from where I found you. I had almost gotten there. It's a little town called Linbourne, presided over by Lord Darius." Now the cloaked figure looked closely at Rye, watching his expression, "Ever been there?"

Rye's throat suddenly felt dry and it took all his might not to swallow. Because, in fact, he had been there. For a year. As a Blacksmith's apprentice. Of course, it wasn't like he was going to admit that to this man, "Nope, never been there, although I have heard of the place. It was close by you say? I mean, when you found me?"

"Yes, about two to three miles away. My great uncle lives there. I grew up in his shop," Seeing the perplexed expression on Rye's face he elaborated, "After my parents died when I was seven I went to live with my great uncle Elias. He's a blacksmith."

Rye suddenly felt like he was drowning. It took all of his will not to let the panic cross his face. If this Ranger ever found out where he was from, who he'd cheated to get here, he'd be as good as dead. Liall seemed like a man who put a lot of value on family and he wouldn't be kind to anyone who caused his family harm. Rye decided it would be best in his own interests if he let the Ranger get to know him, or at least get to know the background story that Rye was preparing to tell.

"We had a blacksmith in our town as well, along with a silversmith."

"Yeah? Where are you from?" Liall asked.

"Corwynne, in the northern part of Aspienne Fief." That, at least, was part of the truth. Rye was, in fact, from Aspienne Fief, and although he hadn't lived in Corwynne, he'd raided the place a few times. "My father is a farmer and my mother was a seamstress."

"Was?" Liall asked inquiringly.

Rye nodded, "She died when I was three. Left my father alone with four boys. I was the third child. Then my oldest brother left for a different fief, and my other older brother joined the Thieves, and all my father had was me and Ben-who's the baby of the family." Another half truth. Rye had learned that the best lies were often the ones with a mixture of what was true and what was false.

Liall looked slightly skeptical. Just a few hours prior this boy had refused to say anything to him, and now here he was spilling his entire life story. "So what happened to Ben?"

Rye shrugged. He'd reached the same conclusion as Liall had and decided that he'd said enough. "I don't know, I left. Life got too boring in Corwynne. I'd actually been on the road for a few days when you found me." There. That closed up the story and also provided an explanation.

Still, Liall wasn't stupid and could see there was something else going on. But he decided not to push it. He'd noticed that the truth had a way of revealing itself. Instead, he pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. "Well, we best be on our way." Then he smiled inwardly at Rye's crestfallen face. _That'll teach you_, he thought.

The rest of the day was spent on the road. Rye used this opportunity to watch Liall, his movements. He was also fascinated with the Ranger's bow. The weapon was obviously well crafted, and without knowing the draw weight he could already tell that it could deliver a heavy blow. Rye himself was only armed with a knife, and although well polished, it was nothing as fancy as this, and certainly not as deadly.

Liall noticed his interest but chose to ignore it. That was another thing Rye noticed about the Ranger. He ignored a lot details- such as Rye's canvas bag, his sketchy history, and now that examination that had taken place, although it had definitely come to the Ranger's attention. Somehow, Rye knew that this wasn't just a lapse in good judgement. Liall was thinking it over, noting the facts, piecing together the real, untold story bit by bit. And it was this that made him more dangerous.

Around dinnertime, much to Rye's relief, the duo came upon another village, this one much larger than the first. They ate at another inn and Liall ordered a room for the night.

Although he knew he needed the rest, Rye was wide awake in his bed, thinking about how he could escape from this man. And he knew that he needed to escape, about that there was no question. So he saw when the Ranger silently rose from his bed on the other side of the room. It was dark out, with only a sliver of the moon left to light the world, yet that sliver was enough to see the dark figure approach the door, then hesitate, glancing back. Rye closed his eyes, feigning sleep. He opened them only after he heard that soft creak of the door as it closed behind Liall. Then he rose swiftly and headed to the door. What could possibly be so important that it required attention in the middle of the night? Rye felt the adrenaline rush through his body. Whatever it was, he was going to find out.

* * *

**ARRRGG. Is it me or are the titles of the chapters getting worse as I go? I need to get it together and come up with something GOOD. BTW, does anyone else have that problem? I mean, they write the chapter and then sit for about 10 minutes in front of the screen because they don't know what to call it? Anyways, here it is! I hope you like it. Please rate it and review if you read it. It helps me know how people feel about the story. **

**In response to the reviews...**

**Alex The Rogue:**_ Thank you! I really try to make it sound authentic because it makes the story sound better._

**Dash99:**_ Thanks! I'm really glad you like it!_

**With-the-Wolves: **_Sorry, I really wanted to write it for you! I actually had a little panic attack yesterday because I realized it was Tuesday and I hadn't written anything. I couldn't work on it alot this morning either. My familys driven down to Florida before and I know how boring that can be. I hope you read it anyway!_

**Seriya Silvermist: **_I love Liall too! And I was thinking the same about the OC thing. And don't worry, I ramble on too. I'm really happy you like it though!_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Karma**_

Outside the breeze sent it's icy fingers down Rye's back and he shivered, instantly glad that he'd had the foresight to bring his jacket with him. He turned his head, peering first right, and then left until he spotted the Ranger rounding a corner. Rye followed soundlessly, keeping a safe distance from the cloaked form.

Liall navigated through a series of turns that left Rye even more bewildered than he already was. In fact he had just decided that they were lost when he rounded a corner and realized that the Ranger was gone. It all suddenly came together in his head. Liall had been throwing off any possible followers with all of his twisting and turning through the alleys of the village. Most likely, he'd already doubled back and was heading to wherever it was he needed to be.

Rye cursed, loudly. Perhaps a little too loudly but he didn't care. Being a thief himself it had been stupid of him to forget such a tactic, and he had obviously underestimated the Ranger, twice now as it were. He stood, wondering where he was and how to get back. The anger at being lost suddenly changed to a feeling of shame and Rye hung his head. His tracking skills had been legendary and here he was, no longer in pursuit and lost.

Rye suddenly became aware that he was being watched. In fact, his subconscious had noticed it a little while back, but the boy had been preoccupied with his own thoughts to pay much attention to what was going on around him. Now, a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled them back, another pair tying his hands tightly behind him. After his hands were tied someone pushed him down on his knees. A third person, a boy around Rye's age, stepped forward, standing directly in front of the boy. Rye instantly regretted his earlier outbursts of profanity.

"Well, what do we have here?" the boy in front, no doubt the leader, said. He wasn't big, only about average height with a mess of dark hair and a stocky build. Clearly he'd been well taken care of as a child. When the other two came into view Rye could see that they were almost the complete opposite of the boy in front. The two looked to be around 12 or 13, though they were small in stature so it was hard to tell. Both were thin, an obvious indication that they were orphans, because you would rarely, if ever, see a healthy child with a family looking like a sack of bones. The holes in their shirts and pants and absence of shoes didn't do much to dispute the observation either. Rye felt rather sorry for them, he'd been on his own for a while, and knew how hard that could be.

"He looks suspicious. Maybe we should see if there's anything he'd like to tell us. I say we don't give him the option of the easy way," this time it's one of the thin boys, whom Rye decided to call Bones- since he was the thinnest of the two. It became clear that the trio was looking for a fight. Bones smiled, which looked more like a grimace on his gaunt face, and Rye's feeling of sorry for him instantly vanished.

The leader looked at Bones for a moment, then switched his gaze to the other boy, nicknamed Sack. Then he looked back at Rye and stepped closer. Now that he was closer Rye could smell the odor coming off of him and he wrinkled his nose. Smelly, seeing the action, turned beet red and before Rye could even see it coming, sent his fist smashing into his captive's cheek. Rye forced himself to stay silent, despite the pain. He wasn't going to let these three see the satisfaction of seeing him moan. Instead, he spit out blood; the fist had rammed his cheek into his teeth, cutting the inside. Next to him all three boys were laughing.

"What do you want?" Rye asked, trying hard to keep the pain out of his voice.

"Nothing much," Smelly replied, "Just a bit of fun."

"It'd be more fun, and not to mention fair, if you untied me so I could fight back." Rye said. Secretly, making the tiniest motions so the others wouldn't notice, his hands scrabbled along the cobblestones to find something, anything, that was sharp enough to cut through the rope tying his hands.

The boys just answered with more laughter, although, Rye noticed, Sack looked a bit unsure and, was that guilt? "It would be more fair," Sack said, his voice quiet, "If we untied him..."

This comment made Smelly's face turn red again and he slapped Sack across the cheek. The smaller boy's hand flew up to his cheek and he glared at Smelly. Then, perhaps in a fit of rage or simply to show that he wasn't weak, Sack came over to stand beside Rye and turned to look at Smelly, as if checking to see if the other boy was watching. Smelly raised his eyebrows, and that's when Sack's foot came back and forward, connecting with Rye's ribs.

Rye gasped as the air was knocked out of him and he fell backward, sliding back with the force of the kick, trying hard to remember how to breathe. Beneath him, his hands-scraped and bloody from the slide, acted as an uncomfortable barrier between his back and the cobblestones. He could hear the laughter coming from the trio. He desperately wanted to reach that cloud of unconsciousness that he could feel was just out of his reach, but the need to fight back was one of those habits that die hard and he thrashed on the ground, his foot tripping a boy that was approaching him. His hands finally found a sharp object, a jagged stone, and grabbed it, trying to position it so it would cut the rope. A sudden pain exploded in his head and he almost lost his grip on the stone. Someone, probably Smelly, grabbed the front of Rye's jacket and hauled him up to his feet, shoving him against the stone wall of a building to keep the boy from sliding back down to the ground.

Rye blinked, trying to focus. For some odd reason he saw two Smellys in front of him, one of them of colliding and connecting with the other and then separating again. Somewhere in his muddled thoughts Rye realized that this must be because of that pain in his head. He also realized, at that moment, that the rope was loose around his wrists, and he slid his hands free of the restraint.

Smelly pulled back his fist, ready to strike again, but this time Rye crossed his arms over his face at the last second so that the damage was taken by his arms. Smelly stood for a second, slow at recovering from his shock, but one second was all that Rye needed. He pulled his knee up, fast and sharp, hoping that the head injury had done nothing to his distance perception and that Smelly was as close as Rye thought he was. Luckily, at that moment, the two Smellys collided into each other, merging together, and Rye's aim hit true. Smelly toppled to the ground howling with pain.

But Rye didn't have time to bask in the light of his victory because he was barreled against the wall yet again. Then a hand clamped on his throat and Rye's eyes widened as he gazed into the crazed eyes of Bones. "Can't hurt me, can ya?" Bones sneered. Rye was beginning to see black spots in front of his eyes. Bones continued to taunt him but Rye tuned out, not that he tried to. The sound of the gaunt boy was just replaced by the intense pounding in Rye's ears and his only thoughts now were that he needed to breathe.

The black spots became bigger and bigger, until each spot almost completely dominated his vision. Once, a new thought surfaced, one that didn't involve breathing, and Rye realized that this slow death hadn't been brought on by any illegal act-like he always thought his life would end because of, in fact he'd done nothing bad at all. He'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He found it funny how he'd gotten away with so many acts of thievery, acts that could be punishable by death, and here he was, losing his life to a 13 year old for doing absolutely nothing wrong.

_Karma_, he thought, smiling lazily.

Now, the need to breath was diminishing, instead being replaced by a blanket of calm. A blanket that looked so peaceful, so inviting...

And yet, some part of him refused to let go. So when the hand holding his throat released him, he heard the agonized shriek, followed by angry yelling. And then a few moments later he felt the fingers that touched his throat, fingers that floated over the bruises that were no doubt already forming, like the wings of a butterfly. And he heard the voice. It was too hard to hear what the voice said, the words were a single blur. But the voice was soothing, familiar.

Rye sighed, glad that the voice was here to speak to him. Glad of the safety it brought with it. Then he saw the cloud. That beautiful cloud that had been unreachable until this moment. Moments like these were hard to come by, he knew, and he was determined not to miss it.

He stepped off and onto the cloud, and drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

**Ta da! I actually feel very proud of this chapter. Please tell me what you think! I also hope you like the names that I gave the trio of boys, I thought they brought a sort of humor to the story. **

**Review Responses~**

**Dash99: **_I am soo glad you like it! It brings me relief to now that I've written something of some sort of value! Also, I always tell myself when I write that I should NEVER give chapters titles because it gets harder as you go farther along the story. And then I started writing this and the first chapter title just came to me so I thought- hey, how about I just give this story chapter titles? WORST DECISION EVER._

**Alex The** **Rogue:**_ Yes! You like it! That is my goal, to make my readers like my story! And I just can't get over how awesome Rye and his name are!_

**Seriya Silvermist: **_Thank you! Alot of times I worry that my chapters aren't really interesting, and I keep promising that they'll get better, but I really helps that my readers like them because it lets me know they're good! (I'm really bad at judging my own writing..)_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Word in Question: Fine**_

_I looked around, blinking in confusion. I could see that I was surrounded by a brilliant white light. Or perhaps I was in a completely white room. Except I couldn't see any doors or walls or even the floor._

_"Rye! There you are!"_

_I turned in surprise at the voice. It was familiar, though I hadn't heard it in years. My father was striding towards me._

_"Hello," I answered, not quite sure what to do. The last time I had seen him, I'd been nine. I had taken Ben out to show him how to steal, Ben was only five, but Roran had taught me when I was even younger. I remember how devastated I had been when he'd left and joined the Thieves, I couldn't wait till I was old enough to join- Ro had been my idol._

_When we got back home, Ben had been clutching a toy, a small train that had been carved out of wood and painted in green and blue. Really, it wasn't that impressive and I had doubted that the woodcarver would even notice, seeing as how he'd carved about 20 of them. But as soon as I opened the door, my father had been all over us, wondering where we'd been. He'd frozen after seeing the train, knowing that it wasn't ours. Then he'd snatched the toy away from Ben and started yelling at me. He'd always hated the fact that Roran had been a thief, and he'd been so angry when I turned out to be a thief myself. That night he shouted at me that he would never let Ben become like one of us, along with a few choice words, then he'd thrust the train into my hands with a command to return it and slammed the door in my I returned, the house was silent, so it had been easy for me to pack my things and leave._

_This all flashed through my head in an instant. I looked at my father now. He looked exactly the same as when I had left him: clean shaven, close-cropped brown hair, hazel green eyes, that same firm expression that said no arguing. I thought of how different we looked, with my black hair, gray eyes, and the fact that I had never been tall or well built, whereas my father towered over me, and had broad shoulders._

_"What have you done with your life?" he asked. Already, I could see the disappointment on his face, as if he already expected me to let him down. "Or are you still trying to figure out what it is that you want?" His voice was full of disgust._

_For some reason, this really got me. "I know what I want, and it's not you or your plans." I snapped at him. What was he doing here anyway?_

_My father sneered, "I'm taking that as a yes. And my _plans_ would have actually brought you some success. Look at you now, beaten to a pulp by a bunch of little boys."_

_I gritted my teeth to keep from saying things I knew I would later regret._

_My father shook his head, the disgust now on his face. "I always knew you'd never amount to anything. Not like Alister. Now he is a model son. And Ben is just like him. Even Roran was better than you, he at least knew how to fight. But you? All you can do is steal pastries."_

_I swallowed, hard. Here it was. My deepest darkest fear, the fear that my own father hated me, that he wanted nothing to do with me. And it turned out to be true. "But I can fight," I argued. It was true, I could fight, just not the way my father wanted._

_"Street fighting doesn't count," He said, "That doesn't require skill, which is the only reason you can do it."_

_I couldn't take it anymore. My hands balled into fists, "Go away." I said. My voice sounded strong, powerful, which was a surprise because I didn't feel like that at all._

_My father seemed taken aback by my tone. He narrowed his eyes. I thought he was going to refuse, but instead he turned. Over his shoulder he said, "Until next time." Then he walked away._

_Almost as soon as he was gone I felt a hand on my shoulder and spun around._

_"Roran!" The excitement in my voice was hard to miss. This visitor, unlike the last one, was a person I didn't mind seeing._

_He smiled, then ruffled my hair. Ro was taller than me, so I literally looked up to him. "Hey little brother," he said, there was laughter in his voice. "I've missed you. You doing okay?"_

_I shrugged in reply._

_He looked at me and frowned, "Don't let him get to you Rye. He doesn't mean what he says, he just...doesn't know what to do."_

_I was confused for a moment, then I realized he meant our father. "What does that mean?" I asked._

_But Roran was distracted by something. Something off in the white that I couldn't see._

_"Ro?" I asked. He shook his head, "I'm sorry Rye. I have to go," he said, starting towards whatever he saw._

_"Wait!" I said, grabbing his arm. Him I didn't want to leave. But Roran jerked his arm out of my grip and continued. I tried to follow him, but my feet seemed to go in slow motion, and my brother slipped farther and farther away with every step._

_"Roran!" I yelled. This made him turn, but he didn't come back. Instead he replied, "You'll be fine." Then he was gone._

_I would be fine? Would I really? I didn't feel very fine, I felt awful, and for some reason it was difficult to swallow._

"Rye. Did you hear me, you'll be fine."

_Now I was confused. But my mind felt too muddled to figure this out anyway, so I let the concern go._

_The white room began to change colors, red and blue and green and yellow. It was like a field of flowers spread around me. I closed my eyes for a moment- a headache had crept up on me without my noticing. When I opened then, the bright colors were gone, replaced by dark grays and browns and greens._

**ɤ ɤ ɤ**

Liall exhaled in relief as Rye's eyes slowly opened.

"See?" he told the boy, "I told you you'd be fine."

* * *

**I had fun writing this chapter, I hope you all liked it! I felt like you all deserved a little insight into Rye's actual life. Please review and tell me what you think!**

**Review Response**

**Dash99: **_Thank you! I've always had an interest in names (or an obsession...except it's not as bad now. I'm not quite sure what it is with names but I loved them) And I thought the nicknames were comical, which was a good contrast considering that Rye was getting beat up. _


End file.
